A Matter of Placement
by i.amazonian
Summary: A lot of times, Sherlock irritates Molly. Sometimes Molly fights back. [Part of the 3-a-day challenge]


A Matter of Placement

* * *

"Sherlock! They're not here!"

Sherlock Holmes rolls his eyes at his wife. "Molly, please. Out of the two of us, I am the one with the unfailing memory, and thus making you the one with the higher propensity to be wrong."

"UGH. Sherlock I am not in the mood for your little insults right now. Seriously, where are my research papers? I have to present those to the hospital in a week and I still have to work on my final draft! Did you touch them again? Maybe you forgot to put them back." she exclaims from the bedroom.

"I didn't take your research papers!"

"They're not here! Could you please help me look for them?" she calls out exasperatedly.

"I told you, I didn't touch them! And if I did I'm pretty sure I'd put them back on your—" He stops. Right there, underneath a pile of statistical analysis files and a few recent case portfolios, are his wife's research papers. He must've neglected to return it when he took it from her without asking for her permission. Oops. He clears his throat. "—table! Maybe you put them in the closet!"

"Why would I put my papers in the closet?"

"I don't know, but since we've eliminated the impossible, the only thing left—"

"Yeah yeah, I'll go check. Spare me the lecture."

Immediately after Molly enters the walk-in closet, the nimble-as-a-cat detective sneaks into the room, places the papers neatly in the bottom drawer of Molly's bedside table, and rushes back out to his desk in the den all before Molly exits the walk-in.

"They're not there. Are you sure you didn't—" This time, it's Molly who sees the papers as she rummages her table drawers for the millionth time. Bizarrely enough, the papers have magically appeared in the bottom drawer, and she has a pretty good of who put them there. _Oh no you don't. _He's not going to be free of the blame that easily.

"Did you find them?" Sherlock calls from his spot, his voice effectively masking the smugness.

"Uh, no, not yet. I think I'll just keep on looking here…"

Sherlock smirks triumphantly.

* * *

Her chance comes when the doorbell rings. "Sherlock, can you get that? I'm kind of not presentable at the moment…"

The detective obliges, albeit sulkily, and Molly pounces on the opportunity. She takes the papers and lovingly places them on top of his messy desk, running back into the bedroom before Sherlock can come back. _Two can play at this game, love._

Sherlock comes back in with a box that looks suspiciously like a jewelry case, the plastic package torn all over the hallway floor courtesy of Sherlock's impatient opening of it. "Molly! It seems Mum has sent you another gift, seriously, why does she—" His detective senses immediately spring to life and his vision zeroes in to the neatly compiled papers on top of his ocean of scattered ones. He narrows his eyes as he walks to his desk and picks up the offending compilation. "Molly. Can you come out here for a moment?"

"Why? Is there—" She even has the audacity to look surprised. "You found them!"

"You put them here."

"I did no such thing!"

"You put them here to pin the blame on me for your own forgetfulness. Just admit it Molly, you know you can't lie to me."

"I didn't!"

"You're getting flustered, your breathing is elevated but controlled. Nervous, but trying to hide it? Lying, then. That and the fact that these papers couldn't have crawled from your bottom drawer, out the bedroom, across the den and onto my desk on their own." Sherlock seems quite pleased with once again winning with his brilliance, not even bothering to hide the smug grin that appears on his face.

That is, until his wife pulls out the ace that trumps his king. "How did _you _know they were in my bottom drawer?"

It's not everyday that someone outwits Sherlock Holmes, and in such a mundane thing too, and he could try and say it was because he deduced the files' location but he knows his wife isn't that stupid. He _did _say he didn't take the bloody papers, and now he can't even think properly because his wife, his innocent, never-malicious wife is now _smirking. _At him. Every cell in his body ignites and damn it, she always looks so delectable when she's confident like this.

* * *

Note: The inspiration for this was taken from a certain tv show, one that the author absolutely loves. Any guesses?_  
_


End file.
